


It's Not the Fall

by Medie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when the hell did Jim lose his fucking mind and start climbing mountains without any goddamn gear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://pororoca.livejournal.com/profile)[**pororoca**](http://pororoca.livejournal.com/) for the [Alphabet Meme](http://medie.livejournal.com/1666949.html) for the prompt "Adventure"

"Come on Bones," Jim laughed. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Scowling up at him, Len folded his arms. "I left it on the goddamn ship." Where he should've locked Jim's. "When the hell did you start climbing mountains?" And by that, he meant, when the hell did Jim lose his fucking mind and start climbing mountains without any goddamn _gear_? "You die, don't you come crying to me to fix you up."

Jim reached for a new handhold and Leonard cringed, expecting his hand to slip. It was too damn easy to picture it happening: a little shale sliding at the wrong moment, Jim's arm pinwheeling as he struggled to regain his hold, one foot then the other coming free, and a cry filling the air to be followed shortly thereafter by a sickening thump and crack.

The sound of Jim's laughter intruded into the horrifying scenario and Len opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to look up again.

He shuddered. Sweet Jesus. If Jim fell now --

"Quit laughing and get your ass down here." Where it was safe with him and with his medkit. Lord knew, Jim needed a full on emergency unit following him every single second of the day. "I'm serious, Jim."

"I'll be fine, Bones," Jim called back. "Why don't you get dinner started?"

"Fuck you," Len said in a mutter. The hell he would 'make dinner' while Jim went off and tried to kill himself for the fiftieth time since breakfast.

He knew there were perfectly logical (shut the fuck up, Spock and put the goddamn eyebrow _down_) reasons why Jim did the things he did. There were. With the amount of trauma the man had been through, it was no fucking wonder he spent all his time trying to remember he was still alive, but --

Fuck it. He didn't want to be thinking about this now. They were on their goddamn vacation. There was a starship in orbit being swarmed by about fifty dozen engineers, putting everything back to rights, giving it a last dose of spit and polish before they all piled aboard and took off for whatever grand adventures Starfleet and the Federation wanted to crow about next. He and Jim had both just come out of two months of meetings, two weeks of press interviews (by the end of which even _Spock_ had started to look annoyed) and all Leonard McCoy wanted to do was sit back, drink a fuckton of alcohol and maybe, just maybe, do a thing or two about the looks Jim'd been throwing his way since the words 'Captain Kirk' had crossed the Admiral's lips.

In short, Leonard H. McCoy wanted to get good and drunk and then good and laid. Or, possibly, good and laid and then good and drunk.

Jim, however, seemed to have other plans. There'd been the hiking, the river rapids, and then _more_ hiking and now, apparently, without any consideration, he'd decided to climb a goddamn mountain.

If Len didn't know better, he'd think Jim was avoiding him.

Rocks skittering down the cliff made him jump and look up. Just in time to see Jim grabbing a little too hard.

"Jim!" Len started fumbling for his communicator. Somebody had to be in one of the transporter rooms on the ship. Fuck, knowing Chekov, the kid was probably up there staring lovingly at the console.

"I'm fine, Bones!" Jim yelled back. "It's just a little -- uh -- "

"Goddamn dangerous, verging on the truly insane?" Len snorted. "Hadn't noticed that part. At least tell me you're wearing some antigrav boots?"

"Uh," Jim glanced over his shoulder. "Wish I could, Bones, but, uh, not so much, no." He slipped again, pieces of rock raining down as he kicked forward, catching hold once more.

Watching it, his legs flailing about until he found it, stole the breath from Len's lungs and turned his knees to jelly.

"Son of a goddamn -- " Len threw up his hands, absolutely fucking tired. "Why the hell do I bother? Huh? Why? You so sick and tired of being alive, Jim? That it? Cause if you wanna kill yourself, I've got a couple hypos that'd do it good and proper. Don't even need to climb a mountain to get one."

"Bones?" At the top of the cliff, Jim stopped to look back at him. "You okay?"

"No," Len snapped. "No I'm not." He watched Jim pull himself onto the ledge. Safe for the moment, thank the good lord for small mercies. "Just realized something I don't much like. Five goddamn years of watching you find exciting new ways to get yourself killed." Turning around, he stomped back to camp.

At least, then, it wouldn't just be about running away from him. He wasn't sure which one it was anymore. If it was just about Jim proving to himself that he was still alive, if Jim was running away from whatever the fuck it was that'd been bouncing back and forth between them for three years, or some brand spanking new trauma that Jim'd neglected to mention.

Lord knows, there were probably a few of them lurking in there somewhere. He spent the entire march muttering to himself about the host of ones he already knew about. It was a long and involved list.

Which is precisely why he didn't see Jim and his 'aw shucks, Bones, you know I didn't mean it, baby' eyes until he damn near tripped over the repentant bastard.

"Coffee?" Jim asked, holding up a tin cup. He had a cut on his cheek. Nothing spectacular, just enough that blood had welled up to stain it bright red.

With a muttered thanks, Leonard took it and sat down.

"Already put in the secret ingredient." Jim waved the small flask he'd been about to look for. "Figured you could probably use it."

"Figured right," Len said. As much as he wanted to down half the thing in one go, it was still steaming (he knew how it felt) so he was forced to sit and stare at it. Should've just taken the damn flask and downed that.

He cupped the mug, feeling the heat radiating through his palms. It was fall (Jim insisted camping wasn't camping without a bite to the morning air) and said bite was in full force.

Jim sighed. Leonard damned the heat and downed the coffee anyway. He didn't want to hear this sober. "Bones, what you said back there -- "

"Forget it," Len said, reaching for the coffee again. "Scared the fuck out of me. Yelling at you is reflex these days."

"I don't have a death wish, Bones."

"No, of course you don't," Len said. "Just spend half your time accidentally falling off cliffs and ledges or getting throttled by Vulcans and Romulans alike." Not that he could blame either one. Grabbing Jim by the neck and giving him a good shaking sounded pretty damn attractive at that moment.

Jim leaned forward, eyes sharp and intent. Len didn't need to look up to know that. He could feel that intensity directed, full force, at him. It was a physical thing. Half the reason no one could say no to him. Every man, woman, and unspecified alike at the Academy'd known exactly who Jim was and what he was offering.

All that and there weren't a whole lot of no's to be found in the bunch.

"Bones, I _don't_."

Getting up, Jim circled around the fire to sit next to him. "I know what it -- " he shook his head. "I know what it looks like sometimes, but I don't." He leaned forward, ducking his head to make sure Len caught his eye. "I just feel _alive_ when I'm on the edge. I don't think I can explain it. I never could. I -- I'm not trying to get myself killed, Bones."

Len lifted his gaze, watching Jim trot out his most beguiling smile. "Might not be trying," he said, refusing to fall for it, "but that's not going to stop it from happening and, odds are, when it does -- "

"You'll be the one standing over me." Jim closed his eyes. "Fuck, Bones."

"Don't tell me you've never thought about it," Len said. "You might play at it, Jim, but we both know you're not stupid."

"Yeah, I've thought about it," Jim said. "Almost passed on you for CMO because of it." He swallowed, turning his gaze toward the flames beside them. "I didn't want to put you in that position, but -- "

"But?"

"I need you there."

Jim's confession, soft and quiet, surprised him. "You what?"

"Some days, Bones, it feels like my life didn't start until that day on the shuttle." Jim looked at his cup. "Should've just had the flask." He almost laughed. Leonard heard the aborted huff of breath that it would have been. "Didn't think I'd be having this conversation."

"Yeah, well, neither did I."

Jim glanced at him, a small grin curling his lips. "We should be drunk for this."

"The good booze is in my tent." Len didn't move. If he moved now, the conversation would be over, and he had a feeling there wouldn't be a second chance. "Get it later. I wanna hear this."

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "Okay." He breathed deep. "It just makes sense. My life started the day I sat down next to you. When it ends -- "

"When it ends, you want me there with you." Len sighed, shaking. "Fuck, _Jim_."

"Doesn't mean I want to die today," Jim said. This time, his smile was warmer. Cockier. The Jim Kirk special or, at least, something approaching it. "Just know that when I do -- " Shaking his head, he muttered something and leaned forward.

The kiss was quick and, well, _chaste_. A dry press of lips against lips.

Leonard barely had time to register it was happening before it was over. He blinked once and Jim had edged away, sitting on the end of the log, looking at him with wide, worried eyes.

The kid was _nervous_.

He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or kiss Jim again.

"Jim."

"I know, Bones, I know. It's not what you want. I'm not what you're looking for." He grinned, still nervous, waving his hands. "I just wanted to lay it out there. Just in case I die on the way back."

Leonard scowled. "You're not going to die, you bastard." He reached out, grabbing Jim by his damn flannel shirt, and yanked him forward. "Not until we're done and, by the way, we're not done until I fucking say so. Are we clear?"

Practically crawling into his lap, Jim nodded. "As fucking crystal, Doctor."

This time, the kiss wasn't even in the same sector as chaste. Jim Kirk was a man who knew what to do with his mouth. By the time it was over, they were a tangle of limbs in the dirt, grinning breathlessly at each other.

"I see you found your sense of adventure, Bones."

"Nope," Len said. "Told you. That's on the ship." He thought about adding something pat. Some assurance of it being where it belonged or where they belonged. Something.

He didn't. He didn't need it and neither did Jim.

Besides, this wasn't over. Five years with Jim Kirk on an exploration mission?

Leonard had a pretty good idea how that was going to go.

He was going to need more hypos.

A _lot_ more hypos.


End file.
